The Loft-Mate
by teamfreewill82
Summary: Blaine's sick of his boring Ohio life. The Big City is calling his name, and maybe he'll find his place in it...with the help of a couple new friends. [EDITED]
1. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I also don't own the title of this chapter–Dream a Little Dream of Me by the Mamas and the Papas. All rights go to their respective owners. **

"Please. This isn't going to work without you," Rachel persisted. For days now, Rachel Berry had been trying–and thus far failing–to convince her long-time friend and loft-mate Kurt Hummel to allow her to put up an ad stating that they were looking for a tenant. They had one extra room they had nothing to do with, and, to make a bit of extra cash, she had come up with the idea to rent it out. But Kurt was adamant.

"Rachel," he said, "there are crazy people in this world. Serial killers, drug addicts. I don't want a crazie living in our loft."

Rachel threw up her hands. "That won't happen! And besides, that could all be avoided because we'd interview the person beforehand to see if they could fit in here." Kurt did not respond, or look at her. "Come on, Kurt. Don't make me beg you anymore. After everything with Finn, I… I really just–" She dropped her gaze to her lap. At this, he returned his hazel eyes to Rachel.

"I know," he murmured. "It's been hard for me too. And I know you want to keep moving forward…" Rachel nodded. "But this isn't Ohio, Rach'."

"I know that, Kurt, really I do. But if it doesn't work out, for some reason such as the tenant really is a psycho killer, I swear to you we will kick them out into the street before they can draw their weapon. Again, that is." She leaned into him, smiling widely, and Kurt snorted, his own lips turning up as well.

"Fine, okay, fine!"

Rachel squealed and jumped to her feet, clapping her hands. "Thank you; thank you; thank you!"

"But if I am killed in the middle of the night by our new roommate I will not hesitate to haunt your ass."

* * *

Meanwhile, in a town best known as the home of the Dalton Academy Warblers–or to those not as interested in enjoying life, simply Westerville, Ohio–Blaine Anderson was seated in a meeting, the third of the early day, and he was bored stiff. He sat as attentively as he could manage… which also meant jolting awake at the kick beneath the table he received from his close friend and fellow realtor, Sebastian Smythe. Blaine's head lifted instantly, his eyes opening before he could fully doze off. Sebastian shook his head and grinned at the table before returning his eyes to their boss.

"Sales are down, people," Figgins stated bluntly. "This is a problem. And I know people still live in houses, so why aren't they coming to us?" The 28 year old Blaine rolled his eyes. _Maybe because no one here takes any actual interest in what they do…_ "What was that, Mr. Anderson?"

Sebastian stared at Blaine, who raised his eyes to Figgins and his head from his fist, elbow on the table. He straightened in his swivel chair as he cleared his throat. "Nothing. Sir."

Figgins grunted and continued. "Very well. As I was saying, you all need to pick up the slack around here. We cannot. Go. Down," Figgins said, slapping his hands on the table on each word for emphasis, "because Puckerman Properties has a better looking founder!" He breathed out. "Meeting adjourned."

With another eye-roll, Blaine pushed to his feet, slinging his satchel bag over his shoulder. Sebastian grabbed his arm on the way out. "What's up with you?" he asked.

Blaine shrugged. "Nothing."

"Liar. You've been acting weird for weeks now and it's gonna get you fired." The men stopped walking and Sebastian studied his friend. "Figure it out, alright?" After a moment, Blaine reluctantly nodded; before heading off down the hall Sebastian nodded as well, once, in satisfied return. Blaine shook his head, kicking at the carpeted floor as he made his way to his office.

He _had_ lied. There _was_ something going on with him–he hated his job. Well, rather, he hated where he worked. There was a difference. He enjoyed being a realtor, enjoyed talking to people and moving them into the house that would become, if he was lucky, their _home_. It was a gratifying feeling, but lately, his job at Figgins Realty was beginning to make him feel like… well, like he was already a middle-aged man with a pot-belly and comb-over dressed in a cheap and sleazy mismatched suit. He _never_ wanted to be that guy. It made him feel gross. And he'd been working so hard with realty he hadn't been to Scandals–the gay bar in West Lima–in weeks, or sung hardly at all, not even in the shower. Even then his mind was crunching numbers. He was drained, and when the work he worked so hard at wasn't making him happy, he couldn't make himself believe that all of it was worth it.

Blaine wanted to make a change. Not like a medical breakthrough but a breakthrough in his _life_, with _himself_. He wanted to be the way he used to be, full of hope and ambition. And it wasn't like that was so many years ago–it felt like just yesterday he was a Warbler with dreams of becoming a Broadway star. But life had crushed those dreams, made them feel more like a fantasy than a possible reality, and he had caved to his parents' wishes of a more practical money-offering career. In this case, realty.

But that wasn't enough. He found he didn't care so much about money. What was the point of living if he wasn't _living_? And sure, that might sound like a cliché beginning to a movie about finding one's self. But that's what Blaine was going to do. Except, he wasn't going to find himself. He was simply going to _rediscover_ himself, the man he used to be. And what better place to do that than in the place where dreams like his weren't thought to be silly, where dancers and singers alike were renowned? What better place than the Big Apple itself?

**A/N: Hi! So thanks for reading the first chapter of my new multi-chap! I've recently rediscovered Klaine and have found I love them more than I ever have before. *smiley So here is the result. The 'roommates' thing has probably been done before, but probably not in this specific way. So please leave a comment telling me what you think; it would mean the world. *smiley **


	2. Basket Case

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I also don't own the AP Café, which really does exist in NYC. I also don't own Craigslist… Again, don't own the title for this chapter–Basket Case by Green Day. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: If you're still here, much obliged, kind reader. Thanks a billion for following! Read on!  
**

"So how did you expect to get the word out?" Kurt questioned over his and Rachel's brunch at their favorite coffee shop in Bushwick, AP Café. As per usual, both were dressed impeccably, even just for their morning out. Kurt had on a long-sleeve white sweater and burgundy wraparound scarf to match his skinny jeans and black combat boots. His chestnut hair was adorned with a stylish black fedora. Across from him, Rachel wore a grey and black striped sweater that reached to her knees as a sort of dress, along with tall black boots. She tossed her wavy hair over one shoulder with a turn of her head and sipped from the coffee mug in front of her.

"Well," she began, "I was thinking that we could maybe put up signs around the city…?"

Kurt's head tilted at her suggestion. "Really?"

"Okay. What would _you_ like to do, Kurt?" she asked pointedly.

He grinned. "Craigslist. We can put the info up online and then wait for an email in reply."

Rachel said nothing for a moment. "That's actually a good idea," she conceded eventually.

Kurt laughed lightly and took a swig of his coffee. "As though that's a new occurrence, for me to have a good idea."

Rachel made a face at him. "Oh, yeah? Like it was a good idea for you to go to the Eagle?"

Kurt's cheeks flamed. "How was I supposed to know it was so different from Scandals? God; I thought I told you to never speak of it again!"

Rachel covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. "I'm sorry, Kurt, really, but you have to admit that that was just hilarious. _Alfonse_?"

Kurt bit his lips but his laugh still escaped him, and soon they were both laughing together, loudly.

* * *

"You're kidding right?" When Sebastian saw the expression on Blaine's face, his apprehensive smile dropped. "Okay; not kidding. Blaine, what the hell're you talking about? You can't move to New York City." The two men, having carpooled, were on their way to drop Blaine off at his apartment; Sebastian kept glancing at Blaine while he drove as though he were worried his friend was having a fit.

Blaine moved his eyes from the window to Sebastian. "Eyes on the road."

Sebastian rolled them instead. "Dude, seriously. Have you lost it? Your job is here, your life is here. What're you gonna do in New York?"

_Oh, I don't know. Try to be happy again for once in my life._ "Don't you remember the way we used to be, Bash? In the Warblers? We were like rock stars!"

"And you wanna be a rock star?" Sebastian asked slowly.

"No; I just… I wanna feel that way again, you know? Like my life isn't just a sad has-been story before it's even really begun. New York is the most amazing city in the world! What place can give me what I want better than New York can?"

"Fantasy City." Sebastian's comment sent Blaine's eyes back out the window to the same scenery he always saw. "Okay, man, sorry. Hey." Blaine looked back to him. "You wanna move to New York. Fine. But what're you gonna do there? Where're you gonna live?"

"I don't know; I haven't set it all in stone yet! Maybe I should visit first, to check the place out. I've only been there once, when I was 16, but I still remember it. It was completely amazing. I said I wanted to live there one day. Why isn't that day _today_?"

Sebastian glanced at Blaine. "Man, you sound like a cliché motivational speaker."

Blaine grinned, laughing slightly. "Believe me, I know. But it's what I want to do."

"You gonna sell apartments there or something?" Sebastian asked.

"Maybe," Blaine replied, shrugging against his seat. "That'd be cool. But I want to perform again, too, you know? Maybe as a side job. Or realty as the side job and performing as my main–"

"Whoa. Okay. You'll figure it out." Blaine nodded and smiled. "But what're you gonna tell your parents?"

Blaine's smile slipped from his lips and he adjusted in his seat. Sebastian drove into Blaine's complex's parking lot. "I'll… I'll think of something. See ya." Sebastian nodded and pulled out. Blaine stood still in the lot, holding his bag strap to his shoulder. He was going to New York. No matter what. Now he just had to deal with his parents.

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me y'all! Means so much and I hope you like it this far! *smiley **


	3. Helplessness Blues

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I also do not own the title for this chapter–Helplessness Blues by Fleet Foxes. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: Hi, everyone, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I just wasn't too sure about this chapter, but I really hope you enjoy it. Thanks. **

****_ I can do this. I can do this._ Blaine had decided against calling his parents before dropping in on them; he figured he would lose his nerve to tell them about New York. Sure, they supported Blaine. As long as what he chose was along the very close lines of what _they_ wanted him to do. All his life it had frustrated Blaine, and finally, he was going to do something for himself. Taken long enough.

He rang the doorbell and knocked once, then knocked twice more, hard, to sound more like a man. He couldn't believe he had to ring the doorbell at his own parents' house.

The door was pulled open to reveal Blaine's mother, Jacquelyn. Upon seeing her son Jacquelyn's eyes widened perceptibly, a large smile appearing on her face. "Blaine!" she exclaimed before grabbing him in a tight hug. He smiled into his mother's hair. Despite everything, he loved her and knew that–in her own _special_ way–she meant well. He just… had to remind himself once in a while.

Dealing with Blaine's being gay, from realizing it when he had been ready to graduate middle school, had been hard for both his parents, but especially his mother. Blaine had always been a sweet and adoring boy; she had no doubt in her mind that he could find a nice girl to settle down with. That is, until the day he decided his current girlfriend wasn't 'doing it' for him, but Connor Francis. Blaine's parents had tried to disguise their mortification, but their son saw through it. He was 'in crush' with Connor, and it killed him, along with the elder Andersons. His brother, Cooper, didn't act any differently–nothing about Blaine had _changed_, and he knew that. He accepted him, but it was so hard for everyone else.

Blaine was stuck, unable to stop how he felt, and when rumors began to spread, Blaine was targeted. Connor was completely freaked out, his parents worried that Blaine would '_try something_', and Blaine was forced to move schools. He went to Dalton Academy, where he was welcomed and felt safe. He was _home_. His parents had done everything for him in that time that they could manage and he figured that that was the most likely reason as to why he felt obligated to do whatever they wanted of him. It was a problem.

"What are you doing here?" Jacquelyn asked Blaine, guiding him into the house.

"What, a guy can't visit his parents?" Blaine's attempt at joking came out more stilted than he would have preferred and he inwardly face-palmed.

"Well, yes, but you rarely do." Her son, his lips pressed in a tight line, nodded and looked to the ground. His mother put a hand to his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "But I'm glad you're here, honey." At this, Blaine looked back at her and smiled, for real.

"So," she said, lowering herself to sit on the loveseat, "what's going on? Have you met someone?" She always asked him that, and Blaine was always forced to say that no, he hadn't. It sucked. Every time.

"Mom, no. That isn't why I'm here. I have to talk to you and dad about something. Where is he?"

"Ah. I knew you couldn't just be here to visit. Your father is golfing with some of his friends from work. Has something important happened?"

"Uh, I think so, yeah. I uh… Mom, I'd like to go to New York City. Not just go there–I wanna move there. To New York." Jacqueline's passive expression was better than Blaine had expected or really hoped for.

"And why is that?" she questioned simply.

"Well, you know I love to perform. I like selling houses and stuff too but… performing has always been my passion, Mom. And I'd really like to go to New York again and keep at what I love. I just thought I should come to you and make sure you knew what I had planned."

"So it's a for sure thing then? You're–moving to New York?" Jacqueline said.

Blaine nodded, her apprehensive tone making him feel unsure. "Yes. Yes; that's what I've decided."

She studied him for a moment. "Blaine, are you sure you know what you're saying?"

And there it was. "Mom, yes. It's what I want," he insisted.

"Sweetheart, what you want and how you should live your life, we have learned over the years, are two completely separate things. What one wants is not always best. Moving to New York City?" Jacquelyn so nonchalantly made Blaine's dreams sound so silly he was relieved that his blushes never show on his skin. Inside, he was beet red, both from upset and embarrassment.

"This isn't some pipe dream, Mom. I've always wanted to live in New York." He made a sound of disbelief and had to look away for a second to try to collect himself. "Just, please. I'm a grown man."

His mother nodded, so gratingly calm that it made Blaine, more annoyed, want to throw something. "I'm aware. And grown men cannot just up and leave their homes and jobs–"

"I'm not happy!" he interrupted breathlessly. "Mom, I'm not _happy_! I want to meet someone; I want to fall in love but the _same_ _damn people_ live in this town! No one comes and no one goes! I can't–I can't stay here anymore. It's like I'm being _suffocated_ by what I don't have because I only _have_ what you've _allowed_ me!" He stopped and found he couldn't breathe. He had never ranted at his mother so blatantly. Would she kick him out?

"You won't believe this," mother and son heard from the kitchen. Chris Anderson stepped into the living room, shedding his windbreaker with an easy smile. "John Bancove threw out his back bending over to retrieve a ball from the water!" He laughed heartily and it receded into a low chuckle, his smile falling, when he saw the looks given to him by his wife and son. "What happened?"

Jacquelyn stood languidly. "Blaine. Would you like to tell your father what you've told me?"

Blaine swallowed and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm moving to New York City," he stated.

His father, imposing even in his good shape, drew his eyebrows together. "You think you're what?" _You think._ Blaine repeated himself but Chris' expression did not change. "You're kidding me. You've got to be kidding!"

"Dad, I've thought about it, and I can go and pursue realty there, along with my performing–"

"Oh; is that what this is about? Your ever-present dream to become famous?" his dad said, as though it were ridiculous. "I thought you were over that."

Blaine dropped his eyes to the ground.

"Apparently, he isn't happy," Jacquelyn murmured.

"Not happy? Having a good job and a roof over your head isn't enough for you?"

"I want a career I've earned of my own merit, not one that I got because you paid off the boss of the company. I love to sing, I love to dance! That's never been good enough for you, but when Coop' wanted to play a _sport_ you were all for that, weren't you?"

"Do not make this about your brother," Chris warned. "This is about _you_. We have done everything for you and you have the audacity to _complain_."

Blaine threw up his arms. "I'm not complaining! I'm _leaving_! Why can't you just support me and understand that this is what I want to do?"

"Because you are making a fool of yourself! Life isn't a movie, Blaine! Pretending the chances of getting discovered are better than one in a million is_ shooting yourself in the foot_."

_Why is she just standing there like a spectator? _Blaine wondered, beyond himself. "Mom, aren't you going to help me out here?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. I don't want you to be unhappy, but if you go you could very well be ruining your life," she told him.

Chris snorted. "Damn right!"

Though unsure why he even bothered at this point, Blaine bit his lip to keep in the words that threatened to spill out. "So I'm supposed to leave without your support then?"

"I guess so." Chris stormed out of the room and Jacquelyn breathed in.

"Blaine, honey…" she tried.

"Mom, please. I'm going;" Blaine said, shaking his head, "there's nothing left for me here. But it would be a hell of a lot easier if I had your support."

His mother pressed her lips into a line and, only slightly, nodded her head. "We clearly can't stop you… And I would feel better if you left without a fight hanging over our heads." Blaine almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. "If this is what you're committed to do, then you can. You have a good job and I don't want you to give it up, but because I trust you, I'm sure you have everything figured out. You wouldn't come here without plans. Right?"

Blaine, still unsure of what was happening, nodded. "Yes. I think so; I still have to find a place to live there of course but I have a general idea."

Jacquelyn nodded. "Then I will support you in this… endeavor, and help you work out the kinks. But you have to talk to your father." Blaine agreed, albeit reluctantly, and his mother patted his upper arm. "Alright. Now, what do you say we find you a place to live?"


	4. Power of Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the song Defying Gravity from the Broadway musical **_**Wicked**_**. I do not own the title of this chapter–Power of Two by Indigo Girls. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: Hi! Thank you to all of those who have followed my story! It's so awesome of all of you and I really hope you like it so far. *smiley **

The Dramatic Duo was seated on the sofa in the living room of their loft, snuggled together with hot chocolates as they checked out the responses to their ad. Most of them were entertaining, some slightly strange, or both. Either way, it was an interesting process and despite not having wanted to do it in the first place, Kurt couldn't deny that he was enjoying himself. He and Rachel had been searching through their inbox for an hour or so, having already received quite a few responses. Most were a definite no, and it was starting to become discouraging.

"Hey," Rachel said suddenly, perking up, "this could be something. Her name is Caroline Buckson–"

With a small titter Kurt muttered, "I'm sure that last name acquired a few laughs…" Rachel nudged him with a grin and continued, "'Looking for place for me and my boyfriend to hang.'" When she looked to Kurt, his nose was wrinkled, an amused smile playing at the corners of his lips. Her hopeful expression turned to one of disappointed doubt. "What's wrong?"

"Rach', she's probably just some rich teen from the Upper East Side who's gotten everything but permission from her parents to stay home alone with her boyfriend of two months," Kurt told her sarcastically. Rachel stared at him in confusion. "You swear you aren't so naïve anymore… Rachel, she wants to use this place as a love shack."

"Well, if she's paying us…" Kurt stared at her. "Kidding! Gosh; I'm kidding. Relax." Rachel, her eyes narrowed in focus and the dark-purple painted fingernails of her left hand wrapped tightly around her mug, scrolled the page. Wiggling her toes in her fluffy socks she exclaimed, "Ooooh; another girl. Her name is–_Kitty Wilde_." With a glance to Kurt, both young adults burst into a fit of laughter and were forced to set down their mugs before they caused a serious accident on Kurt's specially designed and ordered rug.

"Are you _kidding_ me? That sounds–" he squeaked out, "like a stripper name!" This sent both into another spiel of giggles and they had to take a moment to regain their breaths. Her email read that she hated her "lame-ass town" and needed to get out of there, but Rachel and Kurt were so amused they couldn't take it seriously. The former rattled off a quick reply of, _Sorry, already found someone. Thanks anyway! _Kurt snorted and Rachel found herself laughing all over again.

"Shut up! Shut up; we have to find someone! Kurt, seriously," Rachel tried, her smile ruining the effect. He nodded solemnly and pressed his lips together tightly, running his fingers across them to signify a zipper. "Okay. Maybe we could wait until tomorrow. What is it; like ten o'clock–" The opening notes to Defying Gravity rang out, signifying the arrival of another message into Rachel's inbox. She stopped. "Hm."

Clicking open the message, Rachel sat forward and Kurt sipped from his mug.

_Hi, I'm Blaine. I hope you guys haven't found anyone for your room yet; I'd love to take it. I live in Ohio, but New York has always been my dream. I'd like to be a performer, alongside my real estate career, and I know that consists of a pretty tight budget, so for now I'm renting. Thanks a lot. _

"A performer?" Rachel repeated, a large smile blossoming on her lips.

"Blaine…" Kurt murmured, enjoying the sound of the name. "That's interesting. And I don't think he'll mind our breaking spontaneously into song and dance numbers."

Rachel grinned and nodded eagerly. "We have to meet him! What do you think? Is it a yes?"

* * *

_Hey, Blaine! Kurt and I would love to have you come out to NYC so we can meet you, if that isn't too much of an inconvenience. Tell us a date and we'll expect you then_, the message read. His eyes wide, Blaine stared at the screen. He had only just sent his email; he couldn't believe they had replied so quickly. His mother nodded encouragingly and Blaine was suddenly very aware of his stomach. It was happening. It was actually happening. And he could hardly wait.

_I'd love to come out! How's Saturday?_


	5. New York City, Here I Come

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the title of this chapter–New York City, Here I Come by Albert Hammond. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: Thanks to all of you that have stuck around; I know I haven't updated for this fic in a while. It's a short chap cuz I'm tired buuuut thanks for reading it anyway *smiley **

"So you're really going?" Sebastian said. His eyebrows were lifted nearly to his hairline but Blaine only sighed as he continued his packing. "Sorry, it's just… I didn't actually think you'd do it."

Blaine dropped his blue polo shirt into his suitcase and looked at his friend. "And why not?"

"Well, you're just… You just have a history of being fairly…" Blaine raised his own eyebrows at him. "Passive aggressive," Sebastian concluded hesitantly.

"Key word–_history_. I'm going to New York, Bash,"–at this, he continued with his packing–"and if I like Rachel and Kurt's loft, I'm moving there within the week."

"You're moving in with a straight couple?" Sebastian asked, his tone blunt.

"It would appear so. I don't mind, anyway, they sound nice enough."

Sebastian gave him a Look. "But you haven't even met them!"

"Hence, the reason I'm going to New York. Why're you being so weird?" Blaine questioned, folding a pair of pants.

"I'm–not; I'm just worried. You aren't even close to old and yet here you are, having a mid-life crisis."

"I'm not having a mid-life crisis, Bash. It's called moving in a new and better direction–forward. You could try it, too." Both men went quiet and he looked at Sebastian. "You know what I mean."

"Right. And while you're off accomplishing your dreams and who the hell knows what else, I'm stuck here alone," Sebastian said.

"You don't have to be. It's not easy being gay in this town, Bash, but you of all people can make it work. Find some friends, go out and live a little."

Sebastian snorted. "And _you _of all people are telling _me_? Have our roles reversed or am I just losing my mind?"

"Can't lose what you never had," Blaine joked. Sebastian didn't get it. "Look, really, it'll be fine. You'll be fine, I'll be fine. It isn't even that big a deal. But if I stay here, I will lose _my_ mind." Sebastian muttered something that closely resembled what Blaine had said before and the latter rolled his eyes. "I'd love to be able to see my best friend when I get back. Do I still have one, or…?"

Sebastian waited a moment before pressing his lips into a reluctant grin. "I guess so. Lucky bastard." Blaine laughed and shrugged before zipping his bag. Next stop…


	6. Here I Am

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the title of this chapter–Here I am by Bryan Adams. All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: WOW It's been a while huh? Do not duress, kids, I haven't updated ANYTHING in forever so it isn't just this fic! So, really, you should feel special. Lol Thanks for the favorites/follows; it's awesome. *smiley **

Blaine's plane landed in the Big City a little past twelve, as his flight was fairly short and had left Lima at around ten. He'd been torn between flying and taking the train into Grand Central Station, but his mother reminded him to take into consideration that he could be living in NYC shortly and could take the train anytime he wanted to when he visited Lima. Besides, "the plane was much shorter and he wanted to get there in good time didn't he?"

A taxi drove Blaine into Brooklyn and into the neighborhood Rachel and Kurt had told Blaine their loft would be located in, Bushwick. On the way, Blaine couldn't help himself as he stared out the passenger side window, in awe at how many New Yorkers were walking not ten feet away from where he sat in his taxi. Already he felt like some sort of celebrity, the feeling it seemed only NYC could provide.

When Blaine spotted Hummelberry's apartment, he told the driver to stop. He only had a small bag, as he was only staying until Sunday afternoon, and hopped out of the car, quickly paying and thanking the cabbie. Even before he turned to face the building, Blaine could feel his heart quickening and the nauseating dance of his stomach. He was _here_. One meeting and he could be living in New York, the City where you could be anything, anyone you wanted. Now, Blaine had that chance in his grip. He was _not_ letting it go.

He hurried into the apartment building–oddly, no buzzer–and into the elevator. Floor five. Once it reached their floor, Blaine had to physically force himself not to run down the hall to their door, keeping his feet deliberate but calm. No one but himself knew he was freaking out _inside_.

_This is it. Knock. _He stood in front of the giant sliding doors. How cool were _those_? How vintage and experienced were the tenants themselves? Were they old? The email didn't make them sound too old. Blaine rolled his eyes at his own mind. It didn't matter. _Knock_. He did.


	7. This Must Be the Place

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the title of this chapter–This Must Be the Place by Talking Heads. All rights go to their respective owners. **

Within a matter of seconds, Blaine could hear the patter of feet across the floor–Rachel, he presumed–and the following heavier steps of another, Kurt. As the doors slid open, Blaine steeled himself for whatever he would see on the other side.

A young woman with a large smile and blindingly white teeth stood before Blaine, dark ringlets tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. At her side, a man who appeared to be about his companion's age had hair a bit lighter in color than hers and light eyes to go with an impeccable fashion sense. So did Rachel, actually. Perfect couple.

"Hi!" Rachel exclaimed. "I'm Rachel Berry–" She stepped forward, extending her hand as she did so. "–and that's Kurt–"

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," said Kurt with an easy smile, as though she spoke for him or others all the time. "Welcome to New York."

Blaine smiled, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by Rachel, but not paying it much attention. The _loft_. Only a few feet behind the pair was a set table, a vase filled with bright flowers in the middle. To his right, as he entered, he could see the living room had a couch and a chair diagonal of it and a coffee table on a beautiful printed rug. A bookshelf stood where a television would usually be, but Blaine found he preferred it–the stained wood shelf furthered the vintage feel of the loft. Its exposed brick walls were scattered with pictures and abstract paintings that made Blaine happy just by looking at them. There were curtains separating the bedrooms, but he didn't care. It was simply _perfect_, all of it.

"This place," Blaine began in evident awe, "is fantastic! How do you guys only get away with paying $270 a month?"

Kurt and Rachel shared a brief grin. "I'm a master negotiator," Rachel informed him.

Kurt laughed and elbowed her lightly. "Meaning–she can annoy anyone into anything."

She feigned affront but let out a laugh with the two men. "You love me," she stated teasingly.

Kurt nodded solemnly. "It's my greatest offense."

Blaine smiled between the two. "You guys are adorable together. How long have you lived here?"

"Nearly three years," Rachel told him.

"That's awesome!" Blaine said, actually impressed, then added, "Did you wanna do that interview now, or…?"

Rachel nodded, leading him to the couch. She and Kurt sat side by side on the couch and invited Blaine to settle into the chair. Once he had done this, Rachel sent a smile his way, excited, and began, "So, we didn't ask your age in the email, but you look about the same as us. 29?"

"I will be soon–my birthday's April sixth," Blaine told her.

"My birthday's on the 27th of May and Rach' is in December. If you move in, we can throw a party for yours too." Kurt grinned, the idea of throwing a party an obvious joy for him.

"That'd be really nice of you; thanks. I'd help, of course, and if it were any inconvenience I could go home."

"Don't be ridiculous! And we couldn't believe you're from Lima; it feels like absolutely nobody living there could ever have the idea of coming _here_," Kurt said.

Blaine smiled. "You two did."

"I came on my own, originally," Rachel told him, "but it sucked since I was so lonely. Kurt showed up with an internship at _Vogue_ and–"

"We moved in here. I now have my own interior design business," said Kurt, proudly.

Rachel smiled and piped in, "And I'm a T.A. for Cassandra July at NYADA."

"Seriously?" Blaine said. "You guys must be heroes to everyone you know back in Lima."

"Well, I wouldn't say heroes–" Kurt started modestly.

"I would," Rachel cut in. "We got out and we've survived. Thrived. Most of our friends are all over the place now."

"Like Santana Lopez: she's in California with her wife and our other friend, Brittany," Kurt informed Blaine with a blissful smile. "She's pregnant–"

"Hold on," Rachel interrupted. "We know Lima's sort of a small state, and the people living there can be kind of… judgmental. I'm not saying you are or anything, but are you–okay with the whole gay thing?"

Kurt lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "Rach'–"

"Kurt, he can't live here and feel uncomfortable!" Blaine held his hands up.

"Whoa, I don't mind that your friends are lesbians. I think it's great that they're married and Brittany–Brittany?" Kurt nodded. "Britney's pregnant," Blaine finished.

"So you're good?"

"Definitely. Actually," Blaine laughed a little. "I–"

But Rachel was already moving on. "We got totally sidetracked! Next. Rent, as you probably remember from our email, is divided between us all. It's $90 a month, but if something were to come up, Kurt and I have agreed to loan you the money."

"But you have to pay it back in no less than two weeks after that," Kurt tacked on.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, right. Okay?"

Blaine nodded quickly. "Yeah, that's fair. I love this place, and I love New York. I can't believe I got so lucky on my first try."

"Neither can we. Now, Rachel made a giant contract because she's Rachel–which you will soon come to find out in greater depth," Kurt said, not unkindly. "Mind signing it for us?"

"No, but what's it say? The money thing, won't steal, won't be an overall terrible tenant?"

"Just about." Kurt handed Blaine the pen and Blaine wrote his name on the line above Rachel and Kurt's signatures.

"Done!" Rachel squealed. "You are officially our roommate!"

Her smile was infectious, and Blaine smiled in return even bigger. "Holy crap. Okay. Uh, I guess I'll move up here in a couple weeks, since I've gotta hand in my notice to the agency…"

"You're a real estate agent?" Kurt asked incredulously. Rachel jabbed him, still smiling, and he amended, "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course, just–"

"How terribly dull must I be if I sell homes to the fine and bigoted people of Lima?" Blaine concluded.

Kurt slapped a hand over his mouth, a loud bark of a laugh finding its way from it. Rachel laughed, smiling ridiculously. "No way; you're perfect! This is gonna be amazing. And, we'll totally show you around. Ever been on Broadway?"

Blaine stared at her. "If I had, would I be sitting here?"

Kurt, now even more amused, said, "She doesn't mean the _stage_. Wow; you do have a lot to learn. Come on." He stood. "Time to show you around your new home." 


	8. You're the Cream in My Coffee

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own AP Café (an actual café, btw). I do not own the title of this chapter–You're the Cream in My Coffee by Annette Hanshaw. All rights go to their respective owners. **

Kurt and Rachel, their new roommate between them, took Blaine to AP Café to introduce him, they said, to a single part of what he had been missing all his dreary young adult life in Lima. He kept pace as they chatted to him, to each other, about everything they could think of to say.

They had reached the café in 20 minutes by foot and Rachel went up to order their drinks (medium drip for Blaine, Kurt's fave: a Grande Nonfat Mocha, and for herself Rachel got a mug of hot chocolate) while the guys went to grab a table. Blaine removed his jacket, as did Kurt, and slung it on the back of his chair.

"So," Blaine said as they got settled. He folded his hands in front of him for just a moment before feeling stupid and quitting it. "How long've you and Rachel known each other?"

"Oh, since high school," Kurt said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "We hated each other, we think because we both knew how insanely talented the other was and saw it as a threat for solos in Glee Club." Blaine laughed and Kurt smiled. "But when I left McKinley and we weren't at each other's throats, we finally came to see that we're actually pretty similar. Ever since then, we've been close."

"Why'd you switch schools?" Blaine inquired. "If you don't mind my asking."

Kurt waved it off with a, "Oh, it's fine," but then his eyes fell to his hands. "I was uh, bullied, by a stupid jock. He himself was gay and took it out on me; it was all very ridiculous, to be honest."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, his head tilted, but Rachel came back at that moment. She set the drinks down and Kurt smiled and murmured his thanks, as did Blaine. She smiled and slid into a chair. "So," she said, "what're you two talking about?" Blaine, more confused, didn't understand why she was grinning that way at Kurt.

_Wow. They must be really… in love. _

"Just your high school experience," he said aloud, spreading his hands theatrically with a grin.

Rachel laughed at that and sipped her cocoa before saying, "High school was definitely nothing if not _interesting_."

"I'll say," Kurt pitched in, sounding amused. He looked to Blaine. "It's one of those things that you had to be there for, you know? Explaining the things we went through… you'd think we're crazy."

"Was I _not_ supposed to think that already?" Blaine asked. This was rewarded by a laugh from Rachel and Kurt. "No, it's okay," Blaine said eventually, laughing, "I'd love to hear stories. I haven't really got any, myself."

"Now I deny that, out of hand," said Kurt. "What school did you go to?"

"I went to an all boys' school, Dalton Academy–"

"Home of the Warblers!" Kurt and Rachel exclaimed at once. Blaine stared at them, his mouth open.

"Uh, yeah; how'd you know?"

"We went against them in our competitions for Glee!" Kurt said, his eyes wide.

"Seriously?" Blaine straightened in his chair, both hands wrapped around his mug. "You probably went against _me_."

"I cannot believe we're drinking coffee with a Warbler," Kurt murmured, scandalized, with a shake of his head as he took a sip of said coffee.

"If we'd told our high school selves this," Rachel agreed, "we would've laughed in our faces. But, you guys _were_ really good."

"Thanks, so were you. All of your solos? _Amazing_. You, too, Kurt. Honestly," said Blaine, "I really thought you were exceptional. I get the whole 'showcase your star' thing, but I was always convinced you could've rocked a few more solos on your own."

Kurt, flattered, tried not to let his smile grow too large. Rachel hit his feet with her own beneath the table and he glanced at her, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Blaine," he said, "and I agree. But I was all for… taking one for the team."

Rachel squeezed his hand and Blaine, feeling strange, glanced away. "Yeah. Well, this was great of you guys–"

"Hold on, why're you thanking us?" Kurt cut in. "We aren't done quite yet, Mr. Anderson. Next stop:–"

"Central Park."

"And fair warning," Kurt added, "we really do walk everywhere we can in this city."


	9. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the title of this chapter–Baby, It's Cold Outside by… well, many an artist. :P Take your pick. All rights go to their respective owners. **

"I'm so sorry about this, Blaine, seriously," Rachel said, again.

Blaine dismissed her apology (again) and waved his hands at her. "Really, Rachel, it's fine," he repeated. "I think Fanny needs you more than we do." Kurt nodded solemnly. While Blaine glanced around Rachel winked conspiratorially at Kurt, who gave her a look to express his confusion. She ignored this, of course.

"Well, if you're _really_ sure–"

"Really. Go, have fun. I'm sure Kurt can handle showing me around…" Blaine paused, feeling presumptuous all of a sudden. "Unless you just wanted to go back to–"

"Of course I can. Bye, Rach'. See you for dinner?" She nodded and kissed Kurt's pastel cheek before skipping on her way to the subway. Kurt glanced at Blaine. "Where'd you wanna check out first?" he inquired.

"Well you're the one with all the experience," Blaine pointed out. "You lead."

"I wouldn't say _all_ the experience…"

"When did you and Rachel move out here, officially?"

"Like Rachel said before, it's technically been three years," Kurt told him as they walked along. "She lived here before me, and I was stuck in Lima. Needless to say, I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, and decided to fly out here and move in with her." Kurt smiled. "She didn't know I was coming, though, and we were on the phone when I surprised her, so she completely freaked in the middle of a park. It was like a movie reunion or something." He laughed and Blaine did too.

"That's so awesome," he said. "I wish I had someone like that."

"I never did before Rachel. She's definitely something special. Though a lot of work, half the time." Kurt said it good-naturedly and sounding so experienced that Blaine couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous of Kurt and Rachel. He'd never been in a relationship like what they had with anybody in his entire life. Even Sebastian could be a little complicated at times. The reminder of his friend nearly made Blaine check his phone–he was certain it had buzzed–but he had to let Ohio loosen its hold on him for the day.

"You can't expect a star to remain low-maintenance forever," he said reasonably to Kurt, grinning. He pulled his jacket around himself as a chill swept through the air.

"Hey, if you're cold we can head back," Kurt told him. "We can grab a taxi."

"I came here to experience New York, remember?"

"And you're obviously going to move out here. You'll have plenty of time to do that, but not if you catch your death. Let's go." Kurt grinned and pulled Blaine to the curb, holding up one arm. He shouted "Taxi!" as he did so and within a minute a car had stopped in front of them.

"Never get used to that…" murmured Blaine as they slid inside.

"You will, trust me." Kurt told the driver their address and then looked back to the man beside him. "Rach' probably won't be home 'til around six, which means we have a few good hours to kill. Suggestion box is open."  
"Um, we could watch a movie?"

"The hard part will be agreeing on one," Kurt said, but he was smiling. "We have a million back at the loft; we'll pick one when we get there."

Blaine wished Kurt would quit smiling so much. It was killing him to know someone so attractive, intelligent, and funny was sitting beside him but not available. In _two_ ways…


	10. Saturday Night at the Movies

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or anything pertaining to **_**Glee**_** except my own original ideas. I do not own the title of this chapter–****Saturday Night At the Movies ****by the Drifters.** **I do not own any of the movies mentioned in this chapter.** **All rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: I know this probably sucks, okay, and I'm sorry. I know the vague direction in which I really want to go with this but I'm losing my mind with everything else I'm trying to do on top of it. So bear with me. I'm getting there. And don't be surprised if you come back to this story and see this deleted or SUPER edited. Thanks a lot, y'all. **

Kurt slid the door open and both men entered as he sighed. "Alright," he said, "the discs are in that ottoman." Blaine gave him a questioning look and Kurt laughed. "The top lifts to hold whatever we can't fit elsewhere. I like to keep this place looking neat." He went about hanging up their jackets and scarves as Blaine went to kneel before the piece of furniture in his quest for a movie.

"_Rent_?"

"Love it, but pass," Kurt said. He had walked over and was now sitting on the couch while Blaine searched. "Just watched it on Monday with my friends."

"_The Wizard of Oz_?"

"Too close to _Wicked_," Kurt turned down. "Rachel refuses to let me watch it with anyone besides her."

All of a sudden, Blaine let out a gasp. He removed a movie from the ottoman space and held it up in both hands as though it were a treasure. "You have _Moulin Rouge!_?" Kurt looked at him like he believed Blaine were crazy.

"Are you kidding?" he demanded. "Of course I have it. _Moulin Rouge!_ is on my list of top favorite movies of _all time_. Masterpiece."

"This movie made my childhood worth living," Blaine agreed heartily. He stood and sat beside Kurt. "We have to watch it."

"No arguing from me. I'll get my laptop; it's just in my room." Kurt, grinning, stood and hurried to throw back the sheet that blocked the view of his makeshift bedroom. Meanwhile, Blaine studied the movie case, already immersed in the 1899 Paris landscape.

"Okay," Kurt said upon his return. Setting the opened laptop down onto the coffee table, he asked, "Popcorn?" Blaine heartily agreed and slipped the disc into the computer as Kurt went about making the popcorn. "Rach' and I tried to make homemade popcorn once… As you can probably imagine, that didn't turn out quite as _we_ had imagined." Blaine laughed, smiling, as he set up the movie, familiar with the laptop as it was the same model he owned back in Westerville.

The film began and the both of them fell silent in reverence for it. At least, they were quiet until the music began, for which it was a must to sing with the cast. Their mutual love for the movie kept them from feeling any embarrassment, but neither of the men were particularly shy anyway.

When 'Come What May' trailed off, Kurt hastily wiped at his eyes with the already-damp sleeves of his sweater. Blaine glanced at him and laughed a little, not unkindly, which made Kurt laugh as well. "Sorry," he said. "It's just that's always been my dream, to have that song play at my wedding."

"It's an amazing song," Blaine accepted, "arguably the best in the movie. I'd play it at mine too." They were quiet for a second, a comfortable moment, and Blaine sat up a little. "So Rachel likes it, then, I take it?"

His head tilted slightly, Kurt said, "I… guess. What's she got to do with it? Sure, she'd freak if I didn't let her help with wedding details–"

"It's just… I mean–You know, you guys have been living here together for such a long time," Blaine tried. "I guess I just figured–you know what? That was way too presumptuous of me. I'm sorry–"

"Whoa, whoa." Kurt held up his hands, pausing the movie and setting the laptop onto the table to his left. "Do you think Rachel and I–This entire time, you've been thinking that me and Rachel are a _couple_?"

"Well, yeah," Blaine said, shifting awkwardly. "You are. Aren't you?"

"Yeah. A couple of _friends_ living together in New York." Kurt stared at him in disbelief, an amused expression on his face. "We're not _together_."

"Oh." Blaine had no idea what to do. "Okay. My mistake."

"Blaine." Kurt moved a little on the couch, unsure. "We asked you if you were okay with gay people. I thought it was made clear right then _why_."

"You're gay?"

"Quite. Hard to believe you didn't pick up on it."

"Actually, it is." Blaine patted his thighs to avoid looking at Kurt. "Cuz I am too." He looked at him then, and Kurt was somewhat frozen.

"Oh," he echoed Blaine's earlier sentiment. "Well, then." After a moment had gone by, Kurt grabbed his laptop. "What d'you say we finish this, then?"

And just like that, they were back to the way it had been before. Something was most assuredly different, though, and neither knew quite how to go about dealing with it.

* * *

That night, Kurt was scrubbing his teeth when Rachel knocked once on the bathroom door and entered in a plush purple robe. She smiled conspiratorially at him and leaned her back against the closed door.

"So?" she demanded. "How'd it go?"

"How did what go?" Kurt inquired around his toothbrush innocently.

"Oh, come _on_, Kurt. I haven't been able to talk with you all day; don't make me drag it out of you."

Kurt spit into the sink, then began to rinse his toothbrush off. He looked at her in the mirror after he had set it into the holder. "Rachel, Blaine didn't even know I was gay."

Rachel stared at him, almost appearing amused in her shock. "You've got to be kidding!" Kurt didn't reply. "Has he even _looked_ at you? I can't believe–" Rachel held up her hands. "It's okay. He knows now, though, right? You told him and are in love?"

"It isn't happening, Rach'," Kurt said, restlessly folding the hand towel beside the sink. "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Kurt, you're amazing," Rachel told him, walking forward. "Give it time; you just met the guy today, for God's sake."

"Exactly. Let it go." Kurt dropped a kiss to Rachel's head as he walked past her and out the doorway. He headed for the kitchen for a glass of water before his routine facewash. He loved Rachel, he truly did. She was super helpful and sweet… but that quickly turned into pushy and blind to others' opinions. She'd been that way since high school, and Kurt was used to it by now, but with touchy subjects such as this, he'd rather she just let him handle it himself.

Once Rachel had done what she had to do before going to sleep, Kurt went back to the bathroom. He was just opening his specially ordered facewash when a knock sounded again at the door.

"Rach', you left the bathroom wide op–" Blaine popped his head in, his face the epitome of apology. "Blaine."

"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, stepping in. "I just forgot to pack my stuff earlier."

"Oh, right," Kurt nodded. "You're leaving tomorrow."  
"Yeah." Blaine smiled and shook his head briefly as he made his way to the vanity. "One day in this city is just not enough."

"A lifetime in this city wouldn't feel like enough," Kurt said. "That's what Rach' always says." The mention of his friend send both of them into silence, and Kurt returned to mixing the facewash in his hands.

"What's that?" Blaine asked, for lack of anything better to say.

Kurt glanced at him. "Oh, this? I have a strict and rigorous facial wash before bedtime every night." He grinned. "My porcelain complexion has to come from somewhere."

"It actually works?"

"Of course; I've been using it since diapers."

Blaine laughed and extended a hand, grabbing the bottle. Kurt raised his eyebrows at him, grinning a little at Blaine's bravery as Blaine squirted a bit of the soap into his hands. He rubbed them together, hesitating only a second before smearing some onto his face. Kurt followed suit, watching Blaine from the corner of his eyes.

"I expect to look like a younger Marion Cotillard tomorrow, by the way," Blaine murmured, smoothing the soap onto his face.

Kurt laughed, smiling widely. "Okay," he said. "Now we wait and rinse." Five minutes later, clean and their faces tingling, they left the bathroom.

"I do feel purified," Blaine said, nodding appreciatively and only half-joking.

Kurt laughed with a grin. "It does have that effect, yes. You'll have to keep it up if you decide to stay in Ohio, after all."

Blaine's smile became less, but when he spoke his voice wasn't sad. "No, I… I definitely think New York is the place for me." They looked at each other for what could have been only a second; Kurt forced himself to break the spell.

"Well, then. I guess we'll see you in the morning."

Blaine nodded. "Sure. See you tomorrow." He was just turning to go into the spare room-section to check his phone when he heard Kurt speak again.

"Good night, Blaine Warbler."

Blaine smiled and glanced back. With Kurt standing there in a simple long-sleeve and pajama bottoms, looking so young, Blaine could almost imagine having known him years before. "'Night, Porcelain."


End file.
